


Take It Slow

by Zaxal



Category: Psych
Genre: First Time, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-18
Updated: 2012-06-18
Packaged: 2017-11-08 01:07:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/437451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaxal/pseuds/Zaxal





	Take It Slow

His hands went everywhere they could, frantically pulling at clothes, touching the familiar but unmapped body pressed against him, eagerly pulling Lassiter's neck and tie, urging his mouth down for kiss after kiss every single time he started to pull away. Their mouths moved in a stumbling, sloppy rhythm against each other. Shawn's tongue tangled with Lassiter's, their teeth clacking harshly, breaths coming faster and harder with every tiny chance they got to breathe.

"Spencer," Lassiter's voice wasn't nearly convincing enough to make Shawn so much as pause. He reached up and started to loosen Lassiter's tie only to have his hands swatted away. Shawn groaned in frustration and kissed Lassiter harder, grinding his hips forward in hopes that he would understand how much Shawn needed them both to get naked right this very instant. Or sooner.

" _Spencer_ ," Lassiter tried again, but it came out too breathy and not even halfway committed towards making Shawn stop. 

Shawn started fumbling with buttons, and Lassiter finally had enough. He turned them both and pinned Shawn against the nearest wall, pulling his head away. His pupils were dilated, his hair mussed from Shawn's fingers, and mouth looked absolutely kissable. He tried to move forward, but Lassiter kept him held back. "Slow down."

"Nuh-uh." Shawn shook his head. Slowing down meant giving Lassiter a chance to think about the fact that he'd invited Shawn back to his house, that they were about to do something a little reckless that involved a lot of not thinking about the consequences. He needed to get Lassiter naked and past the point of caring before he realized how bad of an idea this was. "C'mon, Lassie." His hands gripped at Lassiter's shirt, and he tried valiantly to pull Lassiter in.

He managed. But the next kiss, Lassiter held him down still, his hands solid on Shawn's shoulders, hips rolling in long, smooth motions against Shawn's. As Shawn tried to whip him up into a frantic speed, Lassiter remained steady and constant. The next time they broke apart, Lassiter kissed his jaw then below his ear. "Slow."

"We've been playing slowball forever, Lass," Shawn said, trying his hardest not to whine.

"Yes. And we're not going to start rushing now." He nipped Shawn's jaw on his way back to his mouth and kissed the stinging skin before kissing Shawn's lips again. Slowly, once Shawn was doing things his way, he stopped putting so much pressure on keeping Shawn against the wall.

They kissed like they had all the time in the world. Shawn supposed that wasn't far from the truth. Lassiter had the day off the next day, and it was still early enough in the evening that if they did it at his pace, it might be too early to go to bed after. Lassiter's tongue traced the roof of his mouth, ran across his teeth, mapped out the new territory thoroughly. He occasionally stopped at the touch of Shawn's tongue to tangle and rub.

When Lassiter pulled away next, Shawn felt breathless. Entranced. Lassiter smirked, smugly amused. "Bedroom," he ordered gently, tugging Shawn off the wall and giving him a faint nudge down the hallway.

Once in the bedroom, Shawn's brain automatically tried to stop and notice and catalog everything it could. It stopped dead in its tracks when he felt Lassiter's heat along his back, his mouth fastened on Shawn's neck while his hands pushed up Shawn's shirt, putting cold hands against his hot body. He made a quiet noise, pressed back against him while his hands reached behind to pull Lassiter closer.

After a moment of kissing his neck and touching, Lassiter murmured firmly, "Sit." Shawn obeyed in silence, plopping down on the edge of the bed as Lassiter shrugged off his suit's jacket, revealing the dark leather of his holster and the glint of his badge on his belt. He hung his jacket up, put his badge on the nearby dresser, and began to pull off his holster when Shawn spoke up.

"Slow."

Lassiter turned to look at him, clearly confused. Shawn nodded quickly, his fingers tapping against the blankets on his bed while watching Lassiter with wide eyes. That same, sexy-smug smirk wound its way onto his lips as he shifted his shoulders, letting the holster slip down one arm at a time to the crooks of his arms. He pulled his arms back behind him, the holster dropping to his hands in a motion that looked practiced and yet so entirely natural that it made Shawn's rather interested erection give a heartfelt throb.

Lassiter put the holster on top of the dresser as well, but he'd hardly loosened his tie before Shawn said, "Come here." He could hardly believe that he was stopping the process of undressing, but he wanted Lassiter back with him now. He could finish stripping later.

He scooted back on the bed as Lassiter got closer, giving him room on the bed. Lassiter knelt between his legs, tilting Shawn's head up with his hands before his lips found Shawn's again. Shawn's hands settled on Lassiter's hips, holding him like he might suddenly figure out that this wasn't where he wanted to be.

Shawn reached up and grabbed his tie after several long minutes, tugging him down gently until they were both laying down, Lassiter straddling him. "Lassie on a leash," Shawn grinned against his lips, swallowing Lassiter's chuckle with another long, slow kiss.

"Tread lightly, Spencer," Lassiter warned him, his lips trailing down Shawn's neck. "I could still say no."

Shawn groaned, pleaded quietly, "Don't." He pushed his body up against Lassiter's on top of him, his hands clutching his shoulders as Lassiter gently nibbled at his neck.

Lassiter chuckled quietly, "I said I could. I don't intend to." Another, harder scrape of his teeth was followed by the quick, warm, wet flat of his tongue. Shawn felt like he was melting. "You're lucky I'm not cuffing you to my bed to do whatever I want with you until I get bored."

"You could," Shawn said almost immediately, feeling the immediate smile against his neck.

"Could. But hiding the Missing Person's Report and misleading the investigation as much as I possibly could would severely cut down on the time I could spend fucking you." The emphasis on the last two words made Shawn feel dizzy.

"Could let me call Gus and my dad. Could lie to them, tell them I'm sick or busy or..." His breathing hitched, his thoughts running into a brick wall as Lassiter's hand tugged on his hair, pulling his head back and letting him kiss the sensitive skin right at the top of his neck.

"Careful, Spencer. You're making me think you almost want it." His teeth closed lightly around the skin, the hint of danger making Shawn moan, his hands gripping Lassiter's shoulders harder as his hips thrust up. Lassiter laughed again, low and dark. "You do, don't you?"

"Lassie," he begged, though he wasn't quite sure for what. Something. More.

"You'd be such a pretty toy, Shawn." Lassiter kissed his throat before finding Shawn's mouth again. When Shawn tried to pull him towards quick again, Lassiter murmured, "Slow." This time, his hands wandered beneath Shawn's shirt again and pushed it up to give himself access. Lassiter's big hands traveled down his sides, up to his chest and down again. Traveling new paths, fingers splayed, dipping and rising along the planes of his body.

When Lassiter moved away again, his hands came up, pulled Shawn's shirt off of him and tossed it over the side of the bed before dipping his head down and running his tongue over Shawn's skin. Shawn's hands combed into Lassiter's hair, tempted to urge him down, but there was something to be said for taking it slow. He was enjoying it. 

And it was so Lassiter. To take things slowly, to make this so much more than the quick fuck Shawn had been hoping for. This was something else with a side order of possibly more and like hell was he going to push that away when he'd been working damn hard for a while to get on Lassiter's good side.

Lassiter's mouth closed around one of his nipples, his hand going to the other, tweaking it softly, rolling it between his fingers while his teeth and tongue worked gently at the other. He bit down, and Shawn pulled his hair, the short strands slipping through his fingers as Lassiter groaned against Shawn's skin.

His mouth continued to travel down, his hands anchoring Shawn's hips while he kissed and licked his way down Shawn's body. He bit down once when Shawn's muscles tensed. Just a bit beneath his ribs, and Shawn's fingers were in his hair again unsure of whether he wanted to push Lassiter away or tug him to some other patch of skin to ask for more. "You like that?" Lassiter kissed the bite mark softly.

"I'm not complaining," Shawn laughed breathlessly. "Though. If you could go just a little faster..."

"No," Lassiter said, his hands moving down to hold Shawn's thighs. "We take things slow." His lips traced Shawn's happy trail, tickling the hairs down to the edge of Shawn's jeans. His tongue dipped beneath the line, ran down and up again. Shawn's breathing hitched, his hips pushing up insistently.

Shawn supposed it was only fair. He'd spent their entire relationship winding Lassiter up, and now that Lassiter had a chance, he was paying him back. It was fair. But Shawn had never been particularly fond of fairness. Cheating was totally within his personal rulebook. He ran one of his hands down, cupped the back of Lassiter's head, ran down to touch his neck. And he begged softly, "Lassie, fuck me. Please, god, Lassie, please."

Lassiter slowly tilted his head up, eyes wide. Slowly, the corner of his mouth tilted up, the smallest smile. "Again," he said firmly. He pushed himself to his knees, straddling Shawn's hips. Shawn's hands slid onto Lassiter's legs, staring up at him. Lassiter raised his eyebrows, waited patiently.

"Lassie," Shawn said, watching as Lassiter's hands slowly slid up his body, reaching for his tie. "Please. Please, will you?"

"Will I what?" He pulled his tie loose, flinging it off into the room. "Say it, Shawn."

Shawn pushed his hips up, grinding against Lassiter, but Lassiter didn't move, his hands resting on the top of his shirt's buttons while he waited for Shawn's verbal response. "I want you to fuck me."

Lassiter started unbuttoning his shirt at a pace that Shawn could at least classify as hurried. "If you insist," he said, attempting to appear nonchalant. His eyes, though, were riveted on Shawn. Hungry.

Shawn's hands rubbed Lassiter's thighs, watching as the buttons were undone, revealing a white t-shirt beneath. More layers to get through – Shawn groaned in frustration, but Lassiter pulled it off quickly. Pale skin, dark body hair, and Shawn leaned up on the bed to get his hands on all of it.

He mouthed at Lassiter's neck while his hands roamed. They ended up on Lassiter's belt, working at the buckle and the fly of his slacks. Once he'd started dragging the zipper down, Lassiter's hands were on his chest, pushing him back down on the bed. "Lassie..."

"Be patient." He gave a quiet chuckle, "For once in your life."

Shawn's protests died as Lassiter slid down his body, hands working deftly at the button of Shawn's jeans. The unzipping took a teasing age, Lassiter's mouth traveling down each inch of revealed skin, his breath hot. Before pulling Shawn's jeans down, he took a moment to touch the bulge, groping Shawn's obvious erection through his jeans. Shawn moaned – he couldn't help it. He wanted, needed Lassiter to touch him more, to bring him closer to the edge.

He wrestled Shawn's jeans down to his knees before moving his touch again to where Shawn wanted it most. Through the thin fabric of his briefs, Shawn could feel the heat of Lassiter's hand, a hint of the roughness of his palm. His hands itched to join, to push his underwear down and make himself fully available.

He'd barely moved them when Lassiter said in a voice that's far too casual for someone who was half naked and playing sexy tease with his coworker, "Hands on the bed." Shawn's response was immediate – his hands laid flat on the bed. "Good boy, Spencer," Lassiter teased. Shawn, under ordinary circumstances, would have at least given Lassiter a hard time. But Lassiter's mouth was hovering tauntingly near, his words heating up the cloth and flesh beneath it. "Obedience should be rewarded."

Shawn tried to come up with something witty to say in response, but all that came out was, "Fuck, Lassie, please."

Lassiter laughed then dragged his tongue over the dark spot forming on the white of Shawn's briefs. Tasting him. Shawn's fingers curled into the blankets beneath them, his hips arching up towards that teasing mouth. Lassiter obliged, putting his mouth on top of him. He sucked through the fabric, licked slowly over the head of Shawn's erection again and again until Shawn was making quiet, nonsense noises, his feet shifting on the bed to try and get leverage so he could push up, ask for more in the only way he was capable of at the moment.

He realized dimly that the stimulation had stopped, that Lassiter's fingers were hooked in the elastic waistband. "Lass," he begged, his voice sounding rough and desperate.

"Say my name, Shawn."

" _Carlton_ ," it came out without a second thought. He felt the shock of cold air as Lassiter pulled his underwear down, pushed them and his jeans down off of Shawn's legs. Shawn kicked them to the floor, completely bare, his body feeling too hot in spite of the cool air of Lassiter's room.

He looked down as a hand spread across his hip, gripped it tightly and held him down. Lassiter wasted no time, his fingers curling around Shawn's erection. His hand traveled up and down again in long, slow strokes as he familiarized himself with Shawn's anatomy.

For a moment, it seemed like everything stopped. The full force of the situation hit Shawn – Carlton Lassiter, hunched over him, face familiarly frowning in concentration; his tongue peeked out to run over his lower lip while his thumb smeared precome over the dark head of Shawn's erection. Shawn's next breath shuddered out of him, accompanied with a quiet, "Holy shit."

"Come on, Spencer, I'm sure you've at least done this before." Lassiter peered up at him with a teasing smile.

"How dare you," Shawn accused, still too breathless and too turned on to actually sound threatening. "I'm as true and pure as your love of Clint Eastwood."

Lassiter's expression softened slightly into what Shawn was willing to believe was genuine amusement. Shawn grinned and laughed, only to have everything be taken away as Lassiter twisted his hand, rubbing at the sensitive spot just beneath the head. "Oh," Shawn breathed, gripping tightly onto the bedding, holding on for dear life. "Ohoh _oh_."

Lassiter's strokes slowed, letting Shawn calm down. "Do you ever do this while thinking about me?"

Shawn nodded quickly and answered, "Yeah." At this rate, he'd probably be doing it again quite a bit more often. Thinking about slow, thorough hands and his quiet intensity instead of handcuffs and harsh orders.

Pink flushed subtly into Lassiter's face, and he stilled his hand. "Good."

"You?" Shawn had to ask. It wasn't enough to imagine Lassiter, hand working away, moaning as he imagined Shawn in any variety of situations – most of which Shawn guaranteed he would be willing to do for him. He wanted to know.

Lassiter didn't answer him. But Shawn didn't care for very much longer. Lassiter glanced up at him with a half-smile that told Shawn everything he needed to know – no, not nearly, because Shawn suddenly craved every tiny detail Lassiter had ever imagined about him. Before he could ask, Lassiter's stance readjusted, and he lowered his head.

Hot, wet mouth, slick tongue and suction and _god yes_.

His fingers ended up in Lassiter's hair again, his hips pushing up towards the source of pleasure. Lassiter's hand was still wrapped around him, giving him control, keeping Shawn in check along with the hand holding his hip. Lassiter chuckled, the vibrations making Shawn's erection twitch, precome licked clean by Lassiter's tongue not even a moment later.

It laved over the head, fist pumping to draw more out of him. Shawn dimly thought that Lassiter knew what he was doing, and he couldn't help the host of mental images his active imagination whipped up. He quickly banished them – he could think about later and definitely _not_ when Lassiter was blowing him.

Lassiter moved his fist away, both hands pushing his hips down while he swallowed Shawn's erection. Shawn felt him hit the back of Lassiter's mouth, slide into his throat, and Shawn heard some unnamed noise tear out of his throat that he'd never made in his life.

Lassiter's throat muscles suddenly contracted, and Shawn immediately pulled his hands away from his head. Lassiter sat up, going from gagging to coughing and looking damn near apologetic as Shawn scooted down the bed, placing a comforting hand on Lassiter's shoulder without any shyness. Why should he? The man had Shawn's penis in his mouth just a few seconds ago, and it wasn't like Shawn had ever been reluctant to touch Lassiter before they'd had sex.

Which, he faintly realized, was the line he'd just crossed. Even if he got dressed and left totally unsatisfied, he'd had sex with Carlton Lassiter. There had been some definite touching of genitals, and no one could take that away from him.

Though, to be honest, he'd like a bit more the moment Lassiter got his throat clear. "Sorry," Lassiter mumbled, rubbing his throat. Shawn's hand skated up and rubbed comfortingly at the back of his neck.

"Dude, never apologize for blowjobs." Lassiter looked surprisingly irritated, eyes narrowed and eyebrows drawn down. Shawn sighed with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. "Just means you need to practice, and, believe me, Lassie, I'm more than willing to help you with your little problem." He flashed a cheeky grin, drawing Lassiter's irritation to him.

In an instant, he was laying back on the bed, Lassiter on top of him, growling, "I hate that mouth of yours."

"That's a shame. I can teach you to like it, if you want. It knows a few tricks." He kept on grinning, even when Lassiter slowly smiled. It was almost sharky, the strains of the theme from _Jaws_ starting up in the back of Shawn's head.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Lassiter accused, his mouth hovering near Shawn's ear. "I'm driving. Get used to it."

Shawn gave a long-suffering sigh, huffing out a tiny " _Fine_ " like Lassiter had seen through some clever ruse when, really, he'd been looking forward for the chance to take things as slow as possible. Making Lassiter come undone just by using his mouth sounded like a good time. Like the best time, in fact.

Lassiter leaned up, reaching down with one hand to fumble with his pants. Shawn wriggled down the bed slightly to bat Lassiter's hands away and help himself. Picking up where he'd left off, he finished pulling down the zipper. He slipped his hand in between the fabric of the slacks and Lassiter's boxers, his fingers wandering down. Lassiter's erection twitched the moment Shawn touched it, and he couldn't help his smile. He leaned forward to place an innocent kiss to Lassiter's chest while he wrapped his hand around him.

Long, slow, syrupy minutes passed by. He could hear faint hitches in Lassiter's deep breathing, could feel the body on top of him shudder in spite of Lassiter's control. Shawn closed his eyes, continued licking away at Lassiter's skin, memorizing the taste while he worked his hand in long, careful strokes. He wasn't sure if the moment would end, or if this was how he'd spend the rest of eternity. He wasn't sure if he would've minded.

It ended, of course, though not in a way Shawn anticipated. Lassiter pushed himself up and rolled over onto the bed beside him, effectively removing Shawn's hands. Shawn pouted, protested with a quiet, "Hey!" He'd been enjoying himself and hadn't been quite ready for it to be over yet.

"Hold on," Lassiter said, his voice an odd mix of gentle frustration. He pushed himself up off the bed, his slacks falling down without a second thought. He kicked them off hastily, socks and shoes with them and immediately grabbed lotion from inside the nearby nightstand.

Shawn got an eyeful when he looked back over. He'd imagined it before, but seeing Lassiter fully unclothed wasn't... well, it wasn't dramatic or breathtaking or anything like he'd expected. It was normal. Like a part of their progression. They'd circled around each other for years, they'd gotten comfortable, Shawn had gotten naked, and now it was Lassiter's turn. It felt like the next natural movement between them, and Shawn followed his impulse on to the next.

He kissed slow, one hand holding onto Lassiter's neck while the other smoothed down his exposed body. Lassiter hesitated for the briefest moment, and when Shawn opened his eyes, he saw that glint that he'd been worried about. Lassiter was thinking, and that needed to stop immediately.

He gripped Lassiter's side along with his neck and slowly dragged him back onto the bed, on top of him, and whatever Lassiter had been thinking didn't keep him from understanding and complying. He pushed Shawn back and was hovering over him before kissing him again. This kiss was different from the others, more forceful, more demanding. Hungry. Lassiter's free hand ended up raking up into Shawn's hair, fingers gripping while he kissed harder.

Slowly, his hips lowered, his erection brushing Shawn's, and Shawn gasped into Lassiter's mouth, bucking up, instantly seeking more.

"Slowly," Lassiter growled against his lips, tugging Shawn's hair.

"With all due respect, Lassie." Shawn groaned when Lassiter thrust against him again. "Fuck that." He reached down impatiently and got his first good touch of Lassiter's erection. He circled it with his fingers, beginning to stroke in a steady, practiced rhythm.

Lassiter glanced away, and Shawn followed his eyes to the alarm clock on the nearby nightstand. He looked back at Lassiter, shocked at the implication. "You were _timing us_?" Shawn's jaw dropped, and his hand stilled.

Lassiter gave the smallest roll of his shoulders, and that shark-like smile was back. "Just you, really." He shrugged again. "Had to know."

"Know what?" Shawn asked, eyes narrowed.

"If you'd obey orders any more if you knew you'd get to come soon." He looked away guiltily. "I was curious. And I thought, why the hell not? When was I ever going to get a chance to find out again?"

"Anytime you want," Shawn answered.

But Lassiter continued on as if he hadn't heard him, "Besides. I figured you'd be doing something similar. Had no idea what, but like you were going to just take sex as sex. I mean, you're _you_."

"I'm counting the number of times I can subtly slip the word 'pineapple' into bedroom talk. It's harder than you'd think, and that's what she said."

"Wait." Lassiter suddenly blinked at him. "Did you say anytime I want?"

Shawn nodded, "Yeah, Lassie. Keep up. Me, you, naked tango, just say the word. Ooh! Can we have a codeword? Like-" He was abruptly shut up by Lassiter kissing him, shoving his tongue into his mouth forcefully. He tripped over whatever words he'd been about to say, practically melting as Lassiter finally touched him. The hand moved away before he got more than a few strokes in, but Shawn felt the touch of a now-slicked palm and couldn't care less. He arched up against Lassiter, thrusting into his slow touches, trembling with frustration.

His hands had gone back to the bed, giving him more leverage to push up. Lassiter chuckled against his lips, "I'll hold you to that." Shawn shivered pleasantly, thrilled by the promise he was being told to keep. It certainly had potential. He leaned up, pressing a desperate kiss to Lassiter's mouth as he continued pushing his body up, asking for more.

Lassiter's pace began to finally speed up, his wrist twisting every now and then, confident fingers finding new ways to drive him out of his head. Shawn's body twitched, writhing in small movements as he sped towards his climax. He moaned unashamedly, words breaking apart even as he tried to voice them. "Gonna-" He tried to explain, only to have Lassiter kissing him again. "Lassie, I can't..."

"I don't want you to," Lassiter murmured against his lips, finding a quicker pace and holding it steady. "I want you to come, Shawn. And I want you to know exactly who's responsible for it."

Shawn threw his head back, and Lassiter's lips were back on his throat, dragging his teeth and tongue along the sensitive skin. His thumb circled beneath the head, rubbing the ridge and then over the slit, smearing precome around. Lassiter smirked as Shawn's breathing shuddered. "Do it." He mouthed it again, his lips moving soundlessly, and Shawn read the words as easily as if he'd said them out loud. _Do it for me._

Shawn's hands lifted, grabbed Lassiter's shoulders while his legs went over Lassiter's on the bed. He tensed on both ends, pressing himself up against Lassiter, thrusting against his stomach the moment he felt the new, strange, wonderful friction rubbing him. He almost expected Lassiter to protest, but instead, he moved his hand away. He ground his body down, gave Shawn more to thrust against. Lassiter moaned and pushed his own hips forward, rubbing his own erection against Shawn's body. He grinned as Shawn keened wildly, desperate for release.

A few seconds later, Lassiter touched him again, hand working him just exactly right as he pressed a firm kiss to Shawn's throat. Shawn shook as he came over Lassiter's fingers, streaking both of their stomachs.

Shawn relaxed and breathed deeply, his body pleasantly rushing with the post-come high. He peered up at Lassiter, smiling as he glanced with an almost disgusted look at the mess Shawn had made. "S'not gonna hurt you, Lassie."

Lassiter glared at him, and Shawn's lazy, contented smile only widened. Lassiter's apparent anger would be a lot easier to believe if not for the continued rub of his hips against Shawn's belly. Shawn considered for a moment before pushing up on the body on top of him. Lassiter resisted, trying to hold his position, but Shawn promised warmly, "I'll blow you if you roll over."

It was almost amazing how quickly Lassiter was on his back, watching him with lust-darkened eyes. Shawn would have teased him about it, but the last thing he wanted was for this to end before he'd evened the score, before he'd made Lassiter come and made him know exactly who had gotten him do it.

He slid down the bed, pushing Lassiter's legs apart so he could kneel between them. His erection curved up against his stomach, darkly flushed and glistening at the tip. He had to get a taste, and if his tongue sloppily wandered along nearby skin to lap away a bit of his own, then the only people who had to know were him and Lassiter.

"Damn it, Shawn," Lassiter's voice was edging on breathless, as equally approving as it was trying to be disapproving. Shawn looked up at him, keeping eye contact as he wrapped his hand around the base of Lassiter's erection. He slid his mouth down, watching all of the changes in Lassiter's expression. It was obscene, not the sort of thing you were supposed to watch with a first-time partner; secret, dirty – Shawn adored it.

Lassiter's cheeks flushed pink. Rage or embarrassment or pleasure – Shawn wasn't sure nor did he care. He flicked his tongue smooth over the head, lapping at the taste of precome while giving minute bobs of his head. Enough to make Lassiter want more, urging him to take it.

He let Lassiter slide down his tongue, deeper into his mouth. His lips brushed his fingers, and he moved them up and down in unison, jerking him and swallowing around him at the same time. Lassiter shuddered, a hand flying to land in Shawn's hair. Shawn moved slowly, alternating the pattern here and there to keep Lassiter guessing, to push him closer to his climax without rushing.

He wanted this to last. Not only to pay Lassiter back for drawing his own torment out but because he wasn't sure where this left them. He wasn't entirely sure where he wanted to end up with this either. Promises of a next time were great, sure, but in practice? Shawn wasn't sure. So he threw himself completely in the moment, moving his hand so he could take more of Lassiter into his mouth. Consequences could be worried about by some Shawn of the future. Now-Shawn just wanted to make Lassiter come.

He swallowed Lassiter down and dragged up again, his hands gripping Lassiter's thighs harshly as he focused on the feel, the taste, the smell. He felt his own gag reflex threatening when he went too far, and Shawn added breathing to the list of things he needed to concentrate on. He could do this, had done it before with a partner who hadn't mattered, and this was _Lassie_.

Clearly, if he could deep-throat some one-night stand, he could manage it now when it actually mattered.

Or so his logic went. His method never involved an awful lot of common sense, but it got results in spite of that fact, and it didn't fail him now. He relaxed his throat, breathed deeply, and slowly slid until his nose was brushing Lassiter's body. Lassiter shuddered, hips stuttering with the effort of holding still, and Shawn was willing to blow him again for having that kind of self control. He was holding carefully onto it, remaining in confident control of himself save for the tiny places where he was coming apart, and Shawn admired that.

It was everything he wasn't. He struggled on a day-to-day basis to hold even the most basic aspects of his life together.

Fuck. He was thinking too much. He was thinking at all, and this was the exact reason he liked coming after his partner. He couldn't have long, rambling thoughts that were leading to bad places and realizations he didn't want to have if he was half out of his mind and one good touch away from coming.

He swallowed tight around Lassiter and continued bobbing his head, feeling the tension in Lassiter's body and knowing it was going to be over soon. Shawn closed his eyes and lost himself in the moment, drawing far enough away that he could get his tongue over the tip again, swiping at the taste of precome and digging his tongue beneath the head.

Lassiter said something as he came, but Shawn missed it completely. The bitter, salty taste flooded his mouth, and he swallowed it without complaint. Lassiter's tension was drained by the time Shawn was done. He was lying back on his bed, eyes staring unfocused at the ceiling while his chest rose and fell in deep breaths.

Shawn wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and immediately looked to the door. He should leave. Now. Before things got more complicated than a handjob and a reciprocal blowjob. "If you ever say 'that's what she said' while we're doing anything remotely sexual again, I will shoot you."

Shawn looked away from the door to Lassiter who was watching him with that familiar, concentrated frown. "I'm serious. They'll never find your body."

"Is this happening again?" He asked before he could stop himself and immediately bit his tongue, hating himself for wanting it while he wanted so badly to run.

Lassiter shrugged and sat up on the bed, glancing down at the mess on his body with distaste. "Don't have to. It's up to you." Lassiter looked at him, firmly asserting, "But don't think we'll be running off every five minutes to get off. We do things my way. We take it slow, and we don't let it get in the way of work."

Shawn could have corrected him, said that he didn't want to try this at all. Put on his clothes, out the door, and they could go back to hating each other. Cats and dogs, Tom and Jerry, Bugs Bunny and Yosemite Sam (Or Elmer Fudd or Daffy Duck but Lassiter was totally Yosemite Sam minus the law breaking and the shortness. He even wore that totally ridiculous facial hair when he was out playing soldier with his buddies at the Civil War reenactment).

But he didn't want to. Lassiter seemed sure that he wanted this to happen, and it was probably a competitive streak in Shawn that said he couldn't back down if Lassiter wouldn't. Besides it might be worth trying.

He could probably learn to like taking things slow.


End file.
